


Precipitation

by Aris Merquoni (ArisTGD)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-03
Updated: 2006-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArisTGD/pseuds/Aris%20Merquoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set shortly after Inferno, giving one explanation as to why Liz left in such a rush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precipitation

"Liz." The Doctor rapped on her door, listened with some consternation at the crashing sounds emanating from behind it. "Liz!"

"Go away!" she shouted. Another crash. He winced; that sounded like something expensive hitting the floor. Possibly her typewriter.

"Liz, please. Can you talk to me?"

"No!"

The trouble with humans, the Doctor thought, was their amazing capacity for self-contradiction. "Can you shout at me, then, Liz?"

"No!" He could hear drawers being roughly opened; after another minute of waiting, they were slammed shut again.

She must really mean it. Oh, dear.

"Liz, _please._ Can we keep this professional?"

After a short pause, the door he had been speaking into was wrenched open. There stood Liz Shaw, petite and redheaded, her jaw clenched and her eyes red. Dear God, she'd been weeping. "Professional?" she snapped. "_Professional?_ Is that what you call a relationship with your military superior that occasionally results in finding your pants around your ankles?"

Dear oh dear. If she only hadn't come in at that particular moment... or, to be sure, any of the moments that would have followed, had she not interrupted. "I... didn't mean for you to see that," he admitted.

She snorted, unladylike, and turned back to her work. Packing, he verified. Her suitcase was open on her bed, and she was dumping armloads of blouses from her top dresser drawer into it willy-nilly.

"So you're leaving," he said quietly.

"What's it look like?"

"I wish you wouldn't go."

She looked up, sharply. "Do you?"

"Yes," he said, surprised. "I value your judgment, and your skill and insights as a scientist."

Liz kept staring at him for a few moments, then shook her head and turned away. "And that's all, then."

The slight choke in her voice, the redness in her eyes... it hit him all at once, and he wondered how he could have been so _stupid._ "Oh, Liz..."

"No, never mind." She slammed the drawer formerly full of her blouses shut and opened the next one. Underthings. "I'm going back to Cambridge, and you can go back to the Brigadier's office and get back to your... business." She hitched a small laugh. "I should have guessed, really. The shirts were screaming it."

He looked down, startled. "What's wrong with my shirts?"

"Nothing." She tucked a stray sleeve into the suitcase and closed it, firmly, sighing in satisfaction as it latched. "They just announce to anyone who's paying attention that you're fonder of boys in uniform than you are of girls, even tomboyish ones with a knack for a bunsen."

"Now, I'm a good deal more broadminded than that."

She laughed. "But the Brigadier isn't, I expect."

He watched as she retrieved her typewriter case from beside her desk where it had fallen, righted it, opened it and tested the keys. "Liz... must you go?"

"You'll be fine without me, I'm sure."

"I shall miss you."

She looked up, smiled sadly. "I'm sorry you never got your TARDIS working."

"When I do," he said, "I shall make it a point to visit you. I promise."

She nodded, slowly, her gaze drifting away to a point beyond him. "I think... I would like that," she said. Then she looked back at him, eyes still rimmed with red. "Now get out, I have to finish packing."

He nodded, politely, and backed out, and she closed the door on him.

"She's... angry, then."

The Doctor turned to see Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, ever so neatly at attention, not looking the slightest bit debauched... even if they hadn't gotten all that far into the debauchery, thanks to Liz's untimely interruption. He was tapping one end of his swagger stick on his right palm in a nervous gesture, and the Doctor couldn't help watching his hands for a moment. "Yes. She's decided to leave."

"What, back to Cambridge?"

"Yes." He gestured, and Lethbridge-Stewart followed him down the hallway, back toward the laboratory. "I don't think I can say anything to convince her otherwise."

"Well, I'll..." the Brigadier trailed off rather suddenly, then looked away. "I'll have to say something to her, I expect."

The Doctor felt he would never quite understand humanity's astounding hang-ups about sex.

"Yes, you will." He shook his head. "You look tense, Brigadier. Why don't you come into my laboratory for some tea and I'll show you a trick I use for relaxation."

Lethbridge-Stewart raised an eyebrow. "If it's anything like the last trick you showed me, my back will never forgive me."

The Doctor smiled. "Don't worry, I think you'll like this one. It's called 'remembering to lock the door.'"


End file.
